


Too Desperate

by 666cbora



Category: Original Work
Genre: Blackmail, Dystopia, Future, M/M, Original Fiction, Sexual Coercion, Teacher-Student Relationship, Underage Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-01-05
Updated: 2019-04-29
Packaged: 2019-10-05 00:24:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 5
Words: 13,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17314616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/666cbora/pseuds/666cbora
Summary: Jace Ward lives in a dystopian future where getting a scholarship is the only ticket out of Thilibo, a garbage fire city on the ruins of earth. His little brother Nick is very bright and has a chance, until Jace realizes one of his teachers is failing him on purpose. Jace makes a deal with the teacher.





	1. A Deal

**Author's Note:**

> dark story ahead with some fucked up things in it

It was never night in the city of Thilibo, where Jace lived. Light pollution turned the sky a dull pink or orange most nights, and the city buildings burned brightly. Anyone who wanted a good night’s sleep had to block out their windows to keep the intensity at bay.

But just because the city was drowned in light didn’t mean there wasn’t darkness within. Jace knew all too well about the dangers of his city, the high crime, the constant murders and thefts. It was a mega-city on this dying planet, and everyone here was doomed. Every year it got hotter and the trash piled higher, but no one seemed to care. The air was filled with constant screaming and honking and laughing and crying and machine noises and police sirens. It was maddening constant noise. It drove Jace crazy, it made him retreat to the darkest places of the city, the places he could drown out the whines of the rest of the city.

He’d trade the orange-lit streets for the dark neon-blue-lit ones, the ones where you had to carry a knife and pray to God no one fucked with you. He’d go down there and smoke, and not make eye contact if possible.

Jace never brought Nick to these places, it was far too dangerous. Nick was Jace’s little brother, the one who actually had a fucking shot at getting out of here. He’d just entered middle school a grade ahead, and he was a genius if Jace ever knew one. It was a great worry for Jace about Nick having to grow up in the shit hole that was Thilibo. It was a death trap. Jace had been shot three times in his short life and they hadn’t had the money to go to the hospital. He was lucky he wasn’t dead. Sometimes Jace woke up in a cold sweat, having dreamt that something had happened to Nick, that he had been killed or kidnapped or worse.

So it was a huge relief to Jace that Nick actually had a chance to get out of here. If he got very good grades, he would get a college scholarship, he’d get off this planet and go somewhere safe to become a scientist or an engineer or someone they needed. So Jace pushed Nick as hard as he could, pressing upon him just how important it was that he got straight A’s, that he didn’t falter. Only once Nick got his scholarship and was out of harm’s way would Jace rest easy and stop being so tense.

Jace was a lost cause. His grades had always been dismal, no matter how hard he tried and how many tears it brought him. He had been slow to pick up reading and was a year behind in math.  Even if Jace somehow could get straight A’s from here on forth, it was too late for him. He was already halfway done with high school, and they don’t even consider a candidate if they had ever gotten less than a B+, which Jace had more than failed on. Nowadays he skipped out a lot, though he always returned so he’d be there to take Nick home.

He’d more or less accepted his fate.

Jace waited at the subway outside of school for Nick. He smiled when he saw the scrawny figure bounce towards him, a huge grin plastered across his face. Jace smiled sadly back, a face far too jaded for his age.

“How was school, bud?” Jace asked, tousling Nick’s hair. He was a head shorter than Jace.

“It was great! We learned about the moon bases.”

“Very interesting. What did you learn about them?”

“How they transport minerals for the economy of the outer sectors and they control the supply and demand so that’s why they make so much money and own everything,” Nick said in a jumble. He tended to talk too fast when he was excited.

Jace and Nick waited for the subway, a passing train flickering a pattern of orange squares across their faces. Other students gathered to, some checking their phones and tablets, some talking to each other.

“Hey losers, what’re you up to?” asked a kid approaching them with a grin plastered on his face. He had glasses, ginger hair, and was Jace’s age.

“Mind your own business, asshole,” Jace said, smiling.

The kid laughed. “You still selling...” he made a gesture Jace was familiar with on the street. It meant drugs, specifically Molly if Jace knew Alex as well as he thought.

“Not at school, Alex” Jace tipped his head at Nick.

“Whah? You want me to go to that shithole you call a house?”

“You kidding? It’s the highlight of the Elpida Sector. If you don’t like it you know where I hang out.”

“Yeah, yeah. You know, I hardly see you in class anymore. You’re gonna get expelled at this rate. You should be more careful.”

“I’ll be fine,” Jace bristled. “Not that anyone gives a fuck about the students here anyways.”

Alex nodded thoughtfully. He looked at Nick. “Hey, little man. How’s middle school going?”

“Good,” Nick answered quickly, ducking behind Jace. It amused Jace that his brother was still so shy. It also made him worry.

With a loud squeak, the train arrived and the doors opened with a hiss. Students started piling on.

“See ya around,” Alex said, disappearing into the crowd.

Jace grabbed Nick’s hand and they squeezed onto the closest car before the doors shut. Nick didn’t resist, he always seemed so lost in among so many people, he clung to Jace like he was a rock in a river.

Always aware of his surroundings, always looking to make sure Nick was beside him as he clung to the pole in the middle of the car, always double checking that their bags were secure, Jace squinted out the window. The luminescence of the towering buildings and blinking advertisements around them was only ever cut off by tunnels. After all, Thilibo was a city of light, and it was never night here.

At their stop, Jace carefully lead them out of the shuttle and onto the street, not letting go of Nick’s hand. His little brother had protested on rare occasions that he was too old for hand holding, but never on busy streets such as these nor with much conviction. Jace and Nick stopped at the gas station and Jace bought Nick a blue slushie, his favorite. A long time ago Jace used to get himself a red slushie too and he and Nick’d come here everyday after school before heading to the arcade. But the arcade has since been condemned and Jace didn’t have the funds for two slushies everyday besides. Now they came here a few times a month, and it’d been a while since their last visit. Jace liked randomly surprising Nick with these stops anyways.

They sat in the parking lot, backs to the building’s wall so Jace could have an easier time keeping lookout. Jace was keeping lookout near constantly, and double that with Nick in tow.

“I’m gonna get a job on one of the moon bases,” Nick said, “And once I get enough money, I’ll be able to bring you and Mom and Dad too.”

Jace winced at “Mom and Dad”, but didn’t blame the kid. He knew that Nick knew it wasn’t a feasible dream anyways, that they’d never get off this stupid rotting planet anyways. But he said cheerily, “I know you will.” Like he always did.

And they walked the rest of the way home after Nick was done with the slushie.

Once they were there, Jace scoped out the place. Their mommy dearest was passed out on the couch. Good. Last thing they needed was her druggie ass getting into shouting matches with their neighbors. Jace supposed she knew they were doomed and couldn’t be bothered to try anymore. Their father was overworked and was barely there even when he was home. Long hours at the factory had turned him into a ghost and when he was home he spent it like Jace’s mother: not sober in the slightest.

Not that they didn’t love their children. They had cleaned up their acts when Nick had gotten on his advanced placement tract and scrounged enough money to get him his supplies and textbooks. They tried damn hard to make things work, but nowadays they’d both become mostly defeated. If it was something that’d get their son-with-a-shot off this damn planet, they’d regain enough of their senses to do it. As far as Jace was concerned they’d mostly given up, besides sometimes yelling at him. Jace’s father had beaten the shit out of him more than once, out of frustration that he was doomed like the rest of them, out of drinking way too much on his day off. Jace was like a stray cat they half owned. They never knew where he was and couldn’t do much to stop him, all they could do was leave out food and hope he was safe.

Today Jace did stay long enough to fix Nick dinner and get him started on his homework. Jace couldn’t help him with it, he barely remembered a thing from middle school, so he took off, making Nick promise him he’d go to bed on time. Jace padded around the apartment briefly, straightening up here and there. He’d have to go to the laundry mat on Sunday to clean his and Nick’s clothes, which was an ordeal. Keeping an eye on the washers was boring but necessary to avoid theft.

He found a blanket and put it over his mother, as it was a tad cold in the apartment. Then he changed his clothes and left, not planning on returning until morning, and only to walk Nick to the train stop for school.

At night he went to the club scene. Jace stayed sober, unwilling to let his senses be dulled, unwilling to let his guard down. Didn’t stop him from selling, though, and he shouldered a black backpack. He was short for his age, and people seemed to trust him. Jace had the tricky job of trying to appear both as someone to be trusted and as someone not to be messed with. Both were important. He noticed Alex talking with a bouncer who beat his ass to the curb. Alex moaned and kicked at the cement.

“Hey, Jace!” his mood brightened upon seeing him. He walked to the wall Jace leaned on. “What about that Molly?”

Jace smiled, his hunch having proven correct. “Give me eighteen credits.”

“Eighteen?” Alex whined. “What about a ‘friend discount’?”

“That is the friend discount,” Jace said.

Alex bitched but relented and the exchange was made.

The rest of the night Jace watched from the shadows, making few sales. Not many were in the mood tonight. He sighed, taking drags off cigarettes and watching the smoke float away calmy. He was mostly killing time before it’d get to cold and he’d have to crash in an abandoned building or car anyways.

The next day Jace decided not to skip school, so he arrived at the school’s train stop much earlier than normal. However, Nick didn’t exit the building until ten minutes after the main crowd had left. Jace was both worried and annoyed. They missed their usual train.

When Nick showed up Jace knew something was wrong immediately. He rushed to his little brother and stared at his puffy red face. “Nick? Hey, buddy, what’s wrong? It’s okay,” he held him close, hugging him.

Nick shook his head. “I got an F.”

Jace felt a pit in his stomach. “That doesn’t make sense.”

Nick sobbed. “My english teacher gave me a zero on the test a-and when I asked about it he wouldn’t explain it or let me make it up or nothing! What am I gonna do, Jace? I can’t get an A in this class if I got a zero on the first test! It’s mathematically impossible,” his words started running together the way they did when he was happy or excited or extremely scared and despairing.

Jace held his brother, “C’mon bud, it’s okay. It’s alright. I’ll talk to this guy for you, okay? It must be a mistake. What’s his name? Where’s his room?”

Nick rattled off the information, and Jace walked with him back to the building. He sat him down in the lobby in view of the main office, figuring Nick was too emotional to be of much help. He wanted to take care of this for him.

Jace wandered down the dingy halls, seeing students still hanging about for sports or other activities heading past. When he finally reached the 7th grade history room, though, the hallway was so empty Jace imagined a cartoon tumbleweed blowing through. He laughed nervously at himself, knocked, and went in when he heard a voice on the other side.

A man that must’ve been in his late thirties at best was erasing the whiteboard. “Little old for this class, Ward,” he said.

Jace dimly remembered Mr. Miller. He barely skated by with a C-, he recalled.“I’m actually here about my little brother. His name’s Nick. Nick Ward.”

Mr. Miller didn’t face Jace, and instead put his hands in his pockets and walked toward his desk. “Oh yes. What’s your concern?”

Jace was a little annoyed at being ignored and started padding towards him uncertainly. “You gave him a zero on his test, and I know for a fact that’s impossible.”

Mr. Miller still didn’t turn around. “How so?”

“Nick’s been studying all his life. He’s got nothing but perfects and near perfects on every test he’s ever took,” Jace said. “For him to get a flat out zero outta nowhere, that’s insane. It’s literally impossible.”

“That’s not how you use the word ‘literally’, Mr. Ward,” Miller said cooly. “It’s not ‘literally’ impossible.”

Jace sighed, remembering why he didn’t have fond memories of English class. “You know what I mean. C’mon, look at me! Why’d you fail him?”

Miller turned and met him with the iciest glare Jace had ever gotten. He suddenly realized how dark the classroom was, the only light source being the sole window in the back that the blinds hadn’t been shut on. It might’ve been the middle of the afternoon, but why were the lights off?

And suddenly Jace realized Mr. Miller was a lot closer to him than he was just a moment ago, and Jace gulped.

The teacher said lowly, “Every year or so, there’s one. One student that’s got a chance to get out of here. One student that’ll do anything for an A. And I mean _anything._ And they’re all the same, so easy to manipulate.”

“You, you fucking bastard!” Jace started trembling. “Don’t you touch my brother! I’ll kill you!”

“What are you going to do?” Mr. Miller asked. “I’m only being honest with you because I know no one’ll believe you. You think we don’t talk in the teacher’s lounge? I know you’re a dropout. If you want your brother to pass this class, you let nature take its course. Otherwise I’ll make sure he’ll lose that scholarship.”

Jace leaned against the whiteboard, feeling dizzy. His mind scrambled for anything. He couldn’t let this happen to Nick.

He couldn’t, he couldn’t…

“Tell Nick I said I’d talk to him after class tomorrow about his grade.”

It wasn’t even anger, it was despair encircling Jace. This didn’t feel real. He heard of this happening, but to bad kids. Kids like him who couldn’t work their way honestly. Not kids like Nick. Not kids who earned their A’s fair and square.

Not Nick.

Not his brother.

“This isn’t fair!” Jace said, almost to himself. “You can’t, he’s just a kid. He’s just a little kid.”

Mr. Miller chuckled. “Too bad you’re dumber than a rock, Ward. You were cute when you took my class. Still are.”

Something went off in Jace’s head. He didn’t even think. “Have me instead.”

Mr. Miller laughed. It sounded so cruel to Jace. “What?”

Jace started rattling off desperately, “Whatever you want, do it to me instead. It’d be...you could do so much more with me. I’m a dropout, like you said. You think my parents know where I am most the time? No one cares where I am. With Nick whatever you’d do, he’s got a strict schedule. Please, please...I’ll do whatever you want, whatever it takes...”

Mr. Miller started laughing again, and this time put his hands on the walls on either side of Jace, blocking him against the wall. Jace’s heart started beating in his throat, he started fearing what he’d gotten himself into. He felt so hot but his hands and feet felt frozen. It was dark in here, he kept thinking, and Mr. Miller was inches from his face. He could smell his breath, it wasn’t pleasant. Jace tried to keep still, stare forward, and look serious.

“You say ‘whatever you want’, you know what I’m talking about, right?” Mr. Miller inched his hand down the wall and against Jace’s side. Jace shivered, feeling nausea. He was shaking in fear by the time the teacher started pressing into his waistband, pulling at it and letting it snap against him. Again and again. His other hand reached up and was pressing Jace’s neck against the wall, first lightly, then less so.

Something in his icy glare had turned to lust and it scared the shit out of Jace.

“Mr. Miller?” Jace squeaked, his voice turning more high-pitched than he’d like. He sounded like a scared child, even to his own ears.

“I asked you a question, Jace. Do you know what I want to do to you? Surely you’re not that naive.”

“Y-yes. Sex, right? Sexual acts?” It was hard, but Jace was trying to bite down his fear, act like an adult here. Anything to protect Nick from this psycho creep. Even...even this. Even this, he could do it.

But saying what he was agreeing to out loud, it still made his stomach churn. This felt so unreal. Jace’d never done anything like this before. He’d never even had a girlfriend, been too focused on keeping Nick safe to let anyone in. And he was right. He had nowhere to be, no one to question him. Mr. Miller could murder him and no one would find the body, he was certain.

And Mr. Miller was still pinning him to the wall, rubbing circles against Jace’s neck with his thumb. Jace gulped, wincing, knowing Mr. Miller felt it.

“Jace, I’m not going to go easy on you. Normally I’d only fuck my students a few times over the course of the semester,” he said, starting to reach into Jace’s pants an inch, making Jace squirm. “But you’re older than I’d like. I think to make up for it, I want to fuck you every day. More than once every day even. Tell me, Jace, how much do you love your brother? Are you absolutely sure about this, because I can promise you now if you give up at any point I’ll fuck him. I’ll fuck him and blacklist him if you try to obstruct me. ”

“I’m sure! Just leave Nick alone.” Jace said, trying to keep still as Mr. Miller’s hand inched deeper into his jeans and felt him through his underwear. It felt so wrong, be touched there by him. It was too rough, it sorta hurt, but it was making him hard. It made him feel all shivery and gross, it was a weird bad feeling Jace didn’t know.

“Your face is all red. You look like you’re about to cry. And you keep shaking like a leaf. I can feel your heart beating in your throat. You’re so scared. That’s so cute.”

It surprised him when Miller suddenly kissed him, forcing his tongue into his mouth. Jace fought every instinct to not struggle or fight and ended up staying shakily still, even when Miller started grinding against him. Jace’s lower back dug into the marker tray under the whiteboard as Miller pushed him against it so hard Jace could’ve sworn he was trying to kill him.

“Mr. Miller! Ah!” He broke away, starting to squirm. It was getting to much, even for Jace’s resolve.

“Yes, fight a little, Jace!” Mr. Miller said, laughing. “Come on, you little bitch! What are you going to do, let me pin you down like a slut?”

Jace tried to fight back. Tears formed in his eyes and Mr. Miller grabbed his arms and pinned them behind his back. He pushed Jace belly-first on top of a desk and used his own jacket to tie his arms together in way too tight a bind.

Dizzy, Jace cried, “Mr. Miller, Jesus f-fuck! You’re really hurting me!”

He felt a swat on his head and a voice whispered chillingly close to his neck, “You fucking know how much rape turns me on? How much knowing you don’t want this and can’t do a thing to stop me get me going?”

Jace felt something in him break. Whether he was doing this for Nick or not, he couldn’t help the sobbing rising from his chest as he felt his pants fall around his ankles.

“Wait, Mr. Miller!” Jace protested.

He heard icy laughter. “Are you still virgin, Jace? Are you scared?”

Jace buried his face in the wooden desk, sobbing.

He tried to focus on Nick. This was for Nick. This was to protect Nick.

Jace couldn’t imagine Nick having to face this. It sharpened his resolve.

“Mr. Miller, stop! Stop! STOP!” Jace cried when he was entered. He wasn’t using enough lube, he barely prepared Jace at all. It fucking hurt like hell! And he was way too rough and fast. It made Jace feel like a sex toy. He was pounding into him like the world was about to end.

His nails dug into Jace’s hips. He pressed against Jace’s tied hands, crushing them against his back. His thrusting made Jace’s entire body rub back and forth on the wooden desk, which was beginning to feel sharp. Jace was dizzy from all the pain he nearly passed out.

Everything around him spun and was getting darker.

Jace bit into the side of his mouth to keep from screaming and felt the metallic taste of blood gush into his mouth.

Mr. Miller finally came with a dull groan.

After a while he pulled out and Jace started sobbing again, unable to stop himself. He was supposed to be the big brother, the one that could protect and take everything for Nick. Now he felt like a little child and he wanted to die.

Mr. Miller untied him and helped him to his feet. Jace was shaking, his body felt like jello.

“Come by at lunch tomorrow, okay? At 12:30 sharp.” The man gave him a cold smile. He sounded like he was talking about anything else.

Jace nodded and stumbled out of the classroom, not able to see a damn thing.

 


	2. Crowd

Jace didn’t know how he looked when he returned to Nick and wordlessly grabbed his hand. They walked to the subway to wait on the next train. He knew he’d been gone a long time, and Nick was asking him questions and looking so nervous. He was a little ball of worry, gripping his hand and picking at his jacket.

Everything around Jace was mushy and blurred. It was like he was stuck in a daze almost, not really aware. He’d barely been self aware enough to duck into the bathroom on the way back and use a wad of toilet paper to scrape the majority of the stickiness off of him. He was so un-there, hardly aware of Nick or the noises around them. Like he had been pushed out of his body almost, watching himself on autopilot. 

And then suddenly, like a lightswitch had been flicked, for no rhyme or reason, everything was back. Jace felt like he had surfaced from underwater, he could hear and see the things around him and was aware. Everything was bright and he could control himself.

He shook his head slightly, and blinked. “Sorry, Nick, I just zoned out for a half a minute there. Didn’t mean to scare you bud.” He smiled, he tried to look normal, happy. “Your teacher said the zero was a mistake, he’s gonna fix it.”

Nick looked at him. “Jace, you looked like you’d seen someone get murdered or something crazy! You looked like you were gonna start crying! What did Mr. Miller say to you? You can’t tell me nothing’s wrong!”

Jace shook his head and laughed. “He...he was just giving me a hard time about skipping class and being a failure and all that. I dunno, it really got to me, bud. Just the way he said it. I’m sorry that I scared you.”

“You’re not a failure Jace, you know that,” Nick hugged him. 

“I’m scared of the future,” Jace said honestly. “I don’t want that for you. You’re gonna get outta here, Nick. I promise you.”

That day Jace got Nick a slushie even though he’d already gotten him one yesterday. Jace thought he deserved it.

 

That night Jace stuck to the well lit streets for a few hours. He walked in the orange street lamps and watched a couple of kids get arrested outside a liquor shop. It was hot outside. 

He stopped for a bit under a movie theater that had been condemned long as Jace could remember. No one saw movies anymore. He remembered his dad saying it was a shame once, a long time ago, that nothing could beat the theater experience. Jace couldn’t find it in his heart to agree without the nostalgia to back it.

The city buildings were like the walls of a canyon. Jace had to look straight up to see the glowing pale orange river of the night sky between the skyscrapers. No stars. Jace had never seen a star in real life. Jace only saw the moon once or twice.

Jace smoked. He smoked three cigarettes in a row. His hands shook so bad it was a trial to light them. He hoped the passersbys didn’t think he was on meth or crack or worse. He watched the people around him like a cat. He didn’t bring any drugs tonight. He wasn’t in the mood to be fucked with either. No one made eye contact in the city unless they were schizophrenic or had a death wish anyhow. Jace lived here all is life and he knew maybe 3 people outside of family and school. 

Usually he hated the constant din of the busy city. There was screaming and pushing and shoving. Strangers he didn’t give a shit about not giving a shit about him. A million people and somehow very little human interaction besides the shoving and bumping. Even back against the wall on the corner of the building people still accidentally stepped on Jace’s feet here and there. If someone tripped they’d be trampled to death without a second thought.

Right now Jace didn’t mind it though. It was distracting, drowning out his thoughts. He didn’t want to think. He wanted to hurl at his future blindly and completely forget what happened today. Thinking about it would just make it worse. He didn’t think he’d be able to sleep tonight.

His back hurt. His ass hurt. He felt more paranoid than usual and very very tired.

Around midnight he retreated into the blue darkness of the alleys. 

He used to go to the back of this dinky burger-joint restaurant and beg the bus boys for extra scraps when they came out to put the trash in the bins, but it closed a few months ago. The others he’s tried simply refused or threatened to call the cops on him. Now if he wanted food he’d scavenge food courts and garbage bins. If he waited into the dead hours of the night he’d find the leftovers of the shift which were usually edible. Begging on the street was usually a dead end. No one had the means or care for charity. He rarely used his little money to buy himself food, he tried to save it for Nick.

Tonight Jace wasn’t very hungry anyways. He was starting to feel kinda sick.

He went to a familiar area and found an abandoned car with no wheels rusting by a brick wall. He’d slept there a few nights ago and it still seemed untouched.

Jace didn’t like sleeping at home, even if it was safer. It was too loud, they lived right above the busy street and the nauseous orange street lights. Here it was dark and the sky was a dark pale pink. Here he could actually fall asleep.

But not tonight. Tonight Jace’s dreams were too vivid and he kept waking up. He could feel a hand on his throat and reaching under his clothes. He heard whispers in his ear, so close and real he woke up in a panic, slick with sweat, thinking someone was near. His eyes scanned the darkness around him and saw no one, and he slowly got his breathing down and settled back onto the crusty seat.

It was unbearably hot. Any other night Jace’d take off his shirt and pants, but he couldn’t bring himself tonight. In the dark he was less rational. He found it easier to believe Mr. Miller might find him out here or someone with similar intentions. He found it easier to believe he was being watched and hunted right now. Jace had always been wary of something like this in the back of his mind. He knew it was possible, he’d heard terrible stories of what happened in this city. But he’d always been careful. He’d always believed he’d be able to avoid it or fight his way out of it.

It wasn’t meant to happen to him.

It happened to naive girls who dressed too promiscuously or didn’t watch their drinks. It happened to druggies too high to fight back. It happened to kids who wanted to fuck their way to the scholarship.

It wasn’t supposed to happen to Jace.

I wasn’t supposed to be some deal he made, something he was agreeing to.

And it was starting to hit Jace how badly he didn’t want this. He was starting to panic. He kept remembering how fucking scary Mr. Miller was, how he hurt him. How he could only imagine it getting more intense. He was getting hot and cold with anxiety, feeling like insects were crawling around his skull making it worse. He’d rather Mr. Miller just’ve locked him in the fucking closet or whatever fucking psycho torture chamber he got at home, that fucking creep. He couldn’t stand being made to actually show up like it was a doctor’s appointment. Showing up to be fucked. Jesus Christ, how messed up was that?

Who the fuck does this, Jace wondered. He couldn’t find a hooker? He couldn’t watch porn like a fucking normal person? Was he a pedophile, was that his deal? He had a sick rape fantasy he wanted to fulfil? Or was it just because he could, just because he was stuck on this garbage fire of a planet and no one was going to stop him?

Jace didn’t cry. He was trying to be tough, to be an adult. It was like being a hooker, a prostitute, right? It wasn’t the fucking end of the world. They didn’t lose their shit about it, right? Jace could survive this, even if Mr. Miller was a bit of a creepy psycho, right?

He stared into the blue darkness around him, thinking, sharpening his resolve. He would fucking take it like a man. He wasn’t going to lose himself over this, he decided. It was to protect Nick, that’s all that mattered.

Didn’t get rid of the pit in his stomach and it took hours before he finally drifted off into a troubled sleep.

 

A few minutes to 12:30, Jace was perspiring. He could smell his own sweat, and his hands and feet felt icy. He felt like he had a fever.

He shuffled down the middle school hall, wishing very hard that someone would question his presence and escort him out of the building. But it was lunch time and everyone was busy going places, not minding him at all.

It made Jace kinda angry.

You don’t need help, he told himself sternly. If you get stopped, he’ll think you pussied out and he’ll get Nick and you won't be able to stop him. Yesterday would’ve been for nothing. Stop dragging your feet, you pussy. You’re doing this for Nick. You can handle yourself. You’re not weak.

Jace knocked on the door and entered, shutting it timidly behind him.

Mr. Miller was in the back of the classroom, and glanced down at him. “Lock the door. Then stand facing the whiteboard and don’t move. Don’t say anything.”

Jace gulped and did as he asked, getting shaky again and mentally chastising himself for being such a mess already. He really needed to fucking calm down or this was going to be awful.

He stared at the whiteboard in front of him. It was explaining prepositions and postpositions, two things Jace couldn’t remember learning about for the life of him. Looking at the examples he could kinda guess, but the information seemed useless, which is probably why he forgot it. He was only really focusing on it because he didn’t want to think about what was happening.

Behind him, he heard footsteps and tensed up. He heard low laughter.

“Flinching already?”

Jace stared at the whiteboard and grinded his jaw back and forth worriedly.

He closed his eyes as cold, rough hands come from behind and start pawing at his chest. He couldn’t stop a sharp whimper rise from his throat. Chillingly close to his ear he heard Mr. Miller say lowly, “Your brother’s class is right after lunch, you know. In half an hour.”

Mr. Miller had unbuttoned Jace’s shirt and pressed his hands against the skin beneath, running his claw-like nails over Jace’s nipples, scratching and pinching them. Another whimper rose in Jace’s throat. He hated being touched there. It felt bad and nothing else. He dug his own nails into the palms of his hands as he made shaking fists, and Mr. Miller must’ve noticed his discomfort because he started chuckling lowly.

His shirt was pushed off and Mr. Miller used the sleeves to tie Jace’s hands way too tightly behind his back, much like the day before. He help Jace against him from behind, kept running his hands over Jace’s chest, pushing Jace’s bound hands against his own crotch, and he could feel was the teacher was hard. Jace felt sick.

A hand reached around his throat. Jace squirmed helplessly. It pushed him to the ground and he awkwardly got onto his knees, his hands still bound behind his back. Mr. Miller crouched to his level and pulled off his pants awkwardly. Pressure on the back of Jace’s neck lowered him until his face and chest was pressed against the cold tile, his ass in the air. The pit in his stomach sharpened and he choked back a worried sob.

It only got worse as his boxers were pulled down to his ankles and stripped away harshly. Mr. Miller was kneeling behind him, keeping him from closing his legs. Jace shut his eyes, trying to focus on the coldness of the floor. Pretending he was anywhere else, not understanding what was going on, refusing to.

A deep moaning formed in his chest when Mr. Miller started fingering him roughly. Stinging waves poured into his groin. Jace was getting turned on despite himself. He bit into the side of his cheek, half in shocked reaction, and tasted copper.  

“Like that, bitch?” Mr. Miller said smugly. “You like having a man’s fingering your asshole?”

Jace just shook his head best he could against the ground. He wasn’t finding it very hard to suppress the noises in his chest to save from further humiliation, but the fact that they were getting stuck in his throat was enough to make him feel shameful and guilty and a whole barrage of dirty emotions.

“We’re going to play a game, Ward,” he said, pulling out. Jace let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “You’re going to sit under my desk the rest of the day and not make a sound. And if you’re good I won’t punish you after school, O.K.?”

“During classes?” Jace stammered, feeling dizzy. This man was fucking insane. He had to be.

He yelped as Mr. Miller dug his nails into his hips. Jace could hear the fucking grin in his voice. “Be quiet, and you’ll be fine, slut.”

Fingers wrapped around his neck and Jace let himself he dragged/guided to behind the desk, shuffling on his knees to get there. The desk was the sort that went all the way to the ground and was blocked on 3 sides, so it was relatively enclosed. Still, biting fear was rising like bile and he had to force the choking stuff down to stay any kind of afloat. 

Jace kneeled underneath the desk, bending over to not hit his head. In his mind he kept chanting to himself, that this wasn’t so bad, that he could do it, trying to calm himself.

The reality of the situation hit again as Mr. Miller crouched beside him, pushing the rest of Jace’s discarded clothes in a clump next to him. A rattle sounded above him adn Mr. Miller took out some rope and Jace decide to stare into the side of the desk instead.

The teacher chuckled beside him as he wrapped one end of rope around his right ankle. “So quiet already, Ward. Shy?”

A sob bubbled from Jace’s chest. “Please stop talking to me,” he said hoarsely, knowing how little it mattered. That made Miller laugh again, and Jace heard him wrapping a rope on the beam above him, like he was making a pulley with a loop. He tied the other end to his right ankle and pulled on the rope loop on the other side of the beam, making Jace loose balance tipped on his knees, his legs forced to bend. Then he pulled the loop over Jace’s head and around his neck and let go.

Jace sputtered, choking, kicking his knees out until he found a way to precariously balance on them and only be half choking. He wheezed uncomfortably and anger burned in him. “Fuck! What the hell, man?!”

He couldn’t turn his head to look at him anymore, but Jace was so chilled by the sound of the teacher’s breathing quickening. Oh God, Mr. Miller was getting turned on by this. Oh fucking God…His jaw clamped tight, and he coughed slightly, the anger numbing away and being replaced by familiar primal fear. This man was fucking sick, and he was going to fuck him up. He didn’t know if closing his eyes would make it worse.

One of his socks was wadded and forced into his mouth. It tasted like sweat. A piece of fabric was then placed over, wrapped tightly around his head, digging into his face and mouth. Another was placed over his eyes, solving his eye closing debate for him. Jace twisted his wrists, still bound behind his back uselessly.

Once again fingers forced their way into his ass, and Jace tried flinching away only to throw off his balance and get sharply choked. As he flailed, something cold and wet was pushed into him and by the time he’d gotten ahold of himself he was trembling. He was losing whatever pathetic battle this was supposed to be, and he heard himself saying, “Wait wait wait don’t stop...” as muffled nonsense around the gag.

Something was being pushed into him, and as hard as he tried to relax, knowing it would be easier, he tensed up. It pushed through regardless, up against Jace’s prostate, and he shuddered. He didn’t know what it was. He didn’t want to know.

“Got fifteen minutes left bitch, so I’ll let you get used to this a bit,” he said, sounding low and aroused, and then Jace heard a click. The thing in his ass came to life and started dully vibrating. Jace let out a sorry moan drowned by the gag, and shook trying not to move. Heat was pooling in his crotch and if he wasn’t so terrified of choking he’d be grinding his hips with it. 

The teacher chuckled. “Don’t worry, no one can hear it. It changes settings quite randomly, so brace yourself. Wouldn’t want your brother having to find out what a slut you are, would you?”

Jace moaned in anger or frustration. Maybe both. He tried to stop thinking, praying this would be over soon.


	3. Resolve

For what felt like an eternity, Jace tried to keep still as the whatever-the-fuck thing in him kept changing intensity. When it went to the highest setting he felt it in his jaw and he had to force himself still to keep his precarious position. Tears streamed down his face as he suppressed the noises in his chest, keeping them from bubbling up. Even at its lowest setting he had to concentrate. The need to come was driving him insane, even like this. And it’d only been fifteen minutes. He wanted to die.

When the bell rang he nearly fell and choked. And when the voices of the students reached him he felt fire on his face. Being blindfolded made it so much worse, in his mind they could see him and were judging him. The tears kept streaming down his hot face, and he hated himself.

He ground his teeth as he heard Mr. Miller start the class and focused on suffering. Time crawled. As much as he tried to not count the seconds, not pay attention to it, he was waiting for the bell to ring. There would only be two more classes after this, then he’d be done.

You know, if he survived. 

He was already going sore, his arms already numb. Everything was shaky, and Jace wasn’t a whimp. He didn’t think he was, he’d thought he was kinda tough. He had to be tough, you know? But right now the ache spreading across his limbs defeated him. He was too fucking aware right now.

When he heard Nick get called on for a question, he couldn’t suppress a soft whimper of shame and guilt and sadness, or something nameless and adjacent to those. It was luckily quiet enough that no one seemed to notice. Hearing his brother’s voice reminded why he was doing this, and fire pooled in his gut at the thought that Miller might’ve done something even close to this to him. Oh god, it wasn’t fair. This was so messed up.

Jace kept thinking that to himself, perhaps afraid he might forget it.

He didn’t want to think about what Nick might think of him if he knew about this. About him going through this even if it was to protect him. He doubted Nick would see him as the strong, infallible older brother anymore. He’d be weak, submissive, not someone who could protect him. This was so fucking emasculating, Jace wanted to die and forget everything.

After Nick’s class, Jace fell into a mindless daze. His mind was beginning a slow retreat from the situation around him, maybe, or maybe he was becoming too exhausted to keep up any form of coherent thought. He started shaking enough that he felt himself slip a few times, completely enveloped in the pain of keeping an awful position and being stimulated without release. A few times when the vibrator changed from the lowest to the highest setting quite suddenly, he let out soft, accidental moans. The class went quieter for a few seconds, but perhaps any who noticed ascribed it to something else because it resumed without missing a beat. Sometimes the ventilation made weird noises. He remembered that.

But Jace felt his face heat up with shame. The invisible crowd on the other side of the desk reminded him how fucking public this all was. If someone found out, he’d kill himself. Wait, no, he couldn’t, he had to protect Nick...but...he didn’t know if he could control himself. He’d want to die, he knew it. He wanted to die now, even at this level…

It felt like hours before the bell rang, and he heard Mr. Miller walk behind the desk and open a drawer, but then he crouched down and touched Jace lightly on the neck. Jace flinched.

Mr. Miller chuckled and said very quietly, “Having fun?”

Jace shook his head slightly as to not tighten the bonds, the gag making it hard to give much verbal response. He knew Mr. Miller was going to punish him for making noise earlier.

He was surprised when Mr. Miller took out the gag and rubbed along his jaw.

Still blind, Jace worked his jaw and whispered in a voice he didn’t recognize, “It hurts so bad, I can’t do this another hour. Please, please let me rest, Mr. Miller, please, oh god, please. ”

Jace felt delirious. Fuck, if this was the first day, he was going to fucking die. This was going to fucking kill him.

He whimpered when the gag was put back in, and fresh tears rolled down his face. He fought with himself to keep the wet sobs from escaping him, but his chest hurt so badly. He started crying earnestly, like a fucking child. Noises came from him, choking breaths mostly, but he couldn’t stop it anymore. He wasn’t hard anymore, despite the stimulation. He was in far too much fucking pain.

Miller surprised him again, though. He felt the rope loosen around his neck and he was gently lowered to the ground, as were his legs. The vibrator: or whatever it was, stopped. It’s presence was still uncomfortable, but not unbearable. Jace found himself humming a tone of gratitude, and immediately felt slimy and pathetic for it.

And then air around him shifted and Miller was gone. Jace pressed himself against the cool floor and didn’t move an inch. His aching arms were still bound behind his back, and he couldn’t stretch his legs out much. There was a fear of hitting the side of the desk and making noise, making his presence known to the apathetic class beyond it.

When the last bell rang, there was silence for a while. Jace hardly noticed, he was completely exhausted. The door shut and locked with a click. When Mr. Miller crouched beside him again and untied his arms, and pulled him out from under the desk and into a kneeling position. Jace hardly registered. He was exhausted, emotionally, physically. Despite his time to recover, everything ached and felt hot.

Jace felt the gag being pushed away and he sobbed wordlessly.

Mr. Miller clicked his tongue. “Not so tough, are you, bitch?”

“Sir, I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” Jace said in a soft jumble, not sure what he was apologizing for. 

“During 7th period you made noise. I promised you I’d punish you for that, remember?”

Jace nodded, dazed, not entirely registering the words being spoken. This was too intense, too much, to process. What had just happened, what was going to happen. Waves of hate, hate of Mr. Miller, hate of himself, poured out of his heart, made him shake.

He gulped, suddenly remembering something. “Mr. Miller, how-how much longer after school are you going to keep me? Please, I need to let my brother know not to wait for me.” He hated how scared he sounded, how easily he was begging like a stupid bitch. It’s only been a couple hours, he told himself, ashamed. It’s been less than hours and you’re already this far gone, you fucking fag, you fucking bitch.

Mr. Miller clicked his tongue. “You should’ve thought of that, Ward. Did you really think I was going to let you go as soon as the bell rang?”

“He’ll worry, I always go home with him,” Jace said hoarsely.

He felt a hand around his neck and he winced.

“I thought you said no one cares where you are. Wasn’t that one of the things you were saying to convince me to do this to you?”

Jace hated how he phrased it. “Please let me just text him. Just a text.”

The low laugh he heard sent fresh fear into Jace. “Do you think boys who need to be punished deserve to use their phones?”

Jace grinded his jaw. He wasn’t going to win this, it was clear. But he was scared and angry right now, not really in the right mind to be rational or nice. So he said venomously, “Let me text my brother you sadistic pedophile! I’m not your fucking slave! There’s something seriously wrong with you!”

It was the wrong move because suddenly Jace was assaulted by a barrage of punches. He fell onto his back, his arms and legs free but unable to see where the blows were coming from. He flailed helplessly as merciless kicks joined, and he eventually got enough sense to rip off the blindfold. He saw Mr. Miller, red faced, pure fucking rage.

Jace curled into the fetal position and covered his face until the assault slowed. A rough hand grabbed him by the throat and slammed him belly first onto a desk so hard it made its metal legs skid with a piercing squeak. The wind was thoroughly knocked out of Jace as Mr. Miller undid he belt and started whipping him with it mercilessly, along his back and ass and thighs.

Jace let out a hoarse scream, unable to help himself. “Stop! Please oh god stop you’re going to kill me!”

Mr. Miller didn’t listen.

When he finally tired of that, Jace felt the vibrator being pulled from him, and Mr. Miller’s cock press against his bare ass. Without much lube, he was ramming into Jace. He’s trying to hurt me, Jace thought numbly. The friction was rubbing him against the wooden desk enough to burn.

When Mr. Miller finally came, he pressed against him long after his member had softened. By now Jace was stoic, feeling almost out of body. This was happening to someone else.

He was brought back by Mr. Miller nuzzling against his neck, a flash of disgust and affection struck through him. Mr Miller said, “Don’t you ever back talk me again. I fucking own you, boy.”

When he pulled out, Jace felt strangely empty. He was half hard despite all the pain.

Jace pressed himself against the desk, wishing to disappear. He felt the jumble of his clothes being thrown at him and he forced himself to stand despite the burning pain. The classroom was very dark. What time was it?

Mr. Miller said nothing, just watched him get dressed.

Jace stared at the ground. “Can I leave, Mr. Miller?”

“May you leave.”

“May I leave?”

Mr. Miller pulled him in for a kiss, and Jace remained slack.

He pushed him away after a second and said, “Tomorrow, come after class.”

Jace nodded and walked away.

He wandered into the first bathroom he found and began vomiting uncontrollably in the last stall.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> short chapter, but its intense, so...


	4. Ally

Jace looked at his phone after he’d thrown up everything in his stomach and had finished dry heaving. Nick had sent him several desperate messages asking where he was, and one letting him know he’d made it home.

Jace felt so fucking bad. He sent Nick a message apologizing, explaining something important had come up, that he probably wouldn’t see him for a few days. Then he walked behind the school and into an alley. 

He passed out behind a dumpster after crying uncontrollably for a while, until his chest hurt too much to bear, not thinking at all.

At night, and it was unbearably hot. It was another heat wave, and it woke him up. His brain felt like it was trapped under layers of mush.  Blood and cum was sticking to his skin underneath his shirt, and swore at himself for it. He didn’t want to move, though, he was so fucking sore. He wanted to stay miserable, so he closed his eyes, trying to quell the racing thoughts of his mind.

He didn’t sleep much.

Closing his eyes freaked him out too much. Made him feel hands on him.

He stared at the orange night sky and the wall.

Whenever he got close to passing out he’d feel it, he’d feel a presence behind him, on his neck, touching him. He’d wrench himself out of sleep, suddenly alert and heart racing, only to doze off again and restart.   

But at some point he must’ve fallen asleep because suddenly the sky was bright red and Jace felt the pavement against his face cool. He heard sharp shuffling beyond him and a familiar voice rang out.

“Jace? Jesus fuck, is that you?”

Alex’s shoes appeared in Jace’s vision, but Jace couldn’t be bothered to do more than close his eyes. His brain was still in that primal fear mode, unable to react in a socially acceptable way. He wanted to tell Alex to fuck off and leave him alone, but the action of actually opening his mouth and saying the words seemed insurmountable at this point.

He felt Alex crouch near him and lay a hand on his shoulder. Jace flinched and felt himself let out a sore groan, as if he was no longer in control.

“What the fuck happened to you, Jace? Looks like you got hit by a car, or took too much of something, man.”

Jace felt the edges of his consciousness returning, ebbing relief that Alex didn’t guess what happened. As if anyone could, he thought numbly, they’d have to be as fucked up as Mr. Miller to even think…

“I’m fine, just picked a fight I shouldn’t’ve,” Jace’s voice cracked, and he winced. He really was a wreck. But his senses were returning from that weird haze they’d retreated too. Made him think of those retractable string key chains he used to find sometimes on the street as a kid. You’d pull the tab and it would wind back to the base, no matter how far you pulled it away. He felt like parts of him were doing the same now, retracting back into himself, trying to go back to normal.

But it did give Jace enough willpower to pull himself onto his hands and knees, and although he was sore and felt welts forming on his back, ass, and thighs, he didn’t feel like the pain he was in was unbearable. He could fake being okay without much strain.

“That don’t sound like you, picking fights,” Alex said, brow furrowing. 

Jace looked at him, eyes half closed idly. In the red-light of day, he could almost forget anything was wrong. “Why’re you out here anyways? Weren’t you the one giving me shit for missing school?”

“I saw your brother coming and going from school by himself.” Alex scratched at his collar. “Yesterday he was all alone waiting for the train, waiting for you, and this morning I saw him riding it by himself. I thought maybe you died, was looking for you all morning. Turns out you were back here the whole time?”

“Just got beat up. I’m fine,” Jace said, unable to ignore pangs of worry about Nick. That came flooding back too now. It did relieve him to some extent that Alex was paying attention and looking out for Nick, but the he couldn’t shake the image of his brother being alone from his mind.

Alex watched him curiously. “You need somewhere to crash, man? Need help getting home?” Calling the hospital would be a laughable option, even if Jace was dying, they both knew it.

Jace shook his head. He suddenly grabbed at his discarded backpack and dug through it, feeling fortunate no one had stolen it from him when he was passed out.

After a few moments he pulled out two bags, his last bags, of Molly pills. He handed them to Alex. “If I give these to you, can you make sure Nick gets home alright the next couple days?”

Alex looked at the bags in his hands, looking more somber than Jace’d ever seen him the seven years he’d known him. Alex said, “Yeah man, but…” He trailed off, as if having too many questions.

Jace shook his head,“Please, just, I’m dealing with some shit right now, man. Please just keep him safe.”

“Okay,” he got up. “You gonna hang here a while, I’m guessing?”

Jace nodded.

Alex gave a nod and left. Jace sat against the wall, facing the school and closed his eyes for a second. He hoped Alex would keep his word, but he didn’t know for sure. It did make him feel better to know someone cared if he was gone or not, even if it made him a liar.

After too long, he pulled out his phone and checked the time. He had a few hours.

Jace got up and tried to unstiffen himself and his sore muscles. Trying not to make eye contact with anyone, he walked down the street and into a public restroom. He went into a dingy green single room one with a flickering, seizure inducing fluorescent light. Jace locked the door and stared into the mirror, trying to take stock of his injuries thus far.

He looked like a wreck, his hair was matted with sweat and dust from the alley, and his eyes were bloodshot and strained. There were irregular marks and wounds on him too, from being punched and kicked, he dimly remembered. The corners of his mouth had light bruising, and there was more noticeable marks around his neck. He hoped Alex didn’t notice them, that the other injuries hid them. Looking down, his wrists had deep purple bruises from where he was tied. Taking a deep breath, he took off his shirt and he tried to get a look at his back. From what he could see, the clearly rectangular, regular marks of the belt were angrily red. He put his shirt back on and leaned against the cool tiled wall, not thinking about what could’ve been on it, instead trying to get a semblance off relief for his backside.

He cleaned his face in the sink until he looked somewhat passable and tried to clean his ass and around his legs with toilet paper and other things in the bathroom. He felt gross, and it was almost pointless knowing he’d be disgusting again in a few hours.

But he had to.

He left the bathroom and waited in another alley a long while, watching everything around him as paranoid as ever. Now he was starving, and even somewhat back together, he felt like he could fall apart at any moment. In his heart, he felt like Mr. Miller was going to kill him. He was going to die, and he couldn’t stand how complicate he was being, that he had to do this.

He tried to think of a way out, any alternative, but he came up empty. This was a plan he’d been coerced into very fast, but it was still the best option, at least for keeping Nick safe and ensuring he’d get out of here.

Jace sighed and got up. It was almost time.

Once again Jace walked into the room, and he locked the door without needing to be asked. Mr. Miller stood behind his desk, watching him like a shark. It was so fucking dark in this room.

Jace stood in front of the white board and closed his eyes, head lowered.

He heard cold steps behind him. “If only you would have learned that quickly when you were still in my class, Ward. You might not be here right now.”

“Wouldn’t I’ve just been earlier though?” Jace tried to sound non-threatening, but his voice shook. “Wouldn’t you’ve just gone after me back then?”

“You’re smarter than you make yourself sound,” Mr. Miller chuckled, and the hairs on the back of Jace’s neck stood up. The teacher behind him was a predator pacing in his mind’s eye, getting ready to pounce. Something dark with bright eyes and flashing fangs.

When Mr. Miller touched him, and started rubbing circles into Jace’s neck, something in Jace broke. A sob escaped him, and then another and another. He kept still, shaking, face screwed up, mouth clenched closed and he started sobbing uncontrollably.

Mr. Miller kept rubbing on his neck, and brough another hand around Jace, turned him around and pulled him close, Jace’s face against Miller’s chest. Maybe it was supposed to be comforting? Jace didn’t know, and he didn’t care what this creep wanted anymore. He kept crying until Miller’s shirt was drenched. Miller’s hand moved lower from his neck to his back, somewhat aggravating the wounds but still rubbing in a comforting, gentle-ish way.

Jace’s chest hurt and he got control of himself, hiccuping. He went still, like a mouse in the embrace of a snake. Miller was still hugging him or whatever this fucked up gesture was, still rubbing on him. Jace tried to go blank, tried to be okay with whatever was happening here. He wasn’t being hurt yet, at least, but this still fucked with him. What a hallow fucking thing, to have your rapist trying to comfort you. How fucked up was it that it sorta worked? Did it even work, or had Jace just cried himself out again? He had no idea, and he felt like such a childish idiot no matter how he stacked it.

Mr. Miller loosened his grip and titled Jace’s chin back to look up at him, wiping his remaining tears with his thumb. 

It felt so awkward, this pseudo caring moment, whatever the fuck it was. Jace’s gaze darted between Miller’s icy eyes, as if one of them could give him an answer. He hadn’t really studied the teacher’s face before, it had mostly faded from memory since the class, and it’d been kept so dark in this room since this fucking “arrangement” started (that’s sure a way to put it) that Jace hadn’t really seen it in any detail. Not that he really wanted to. He’d been perfectly fine with this man being as unvivid in his memory as possible. After a few moments of staring, though it felt like entirely too long, he whispered, “I’m sorry.” He didn’t know why. As if any of this was his fault.

And Miller kissed him, gently. And Jace kissed back. 

In the back of his mind, Jace wasn’t stupid. His brain was churning, because any idiot could tell you this was manipulation 101. Act ruthless and cold and then throw your victim a bone so they don’t know what to expect. So then they’ll start trying to please you, thinking they can get that kind side of you back, blaming themselves when you’re as awful as before. No, Jace wasn’t stupid.

But whatever dumb lizard brain was responsible for his behavior lately, the disassociation, the side of himself that had to put Jace back together after all this, it was falling for the ruse stupidly hard. It still felt like he was being violated, but he felt like he was being rewarded. Like someone was patting him on the head saying, “Good boy,” and it made him feel warm. He wanted to cry.

So when Miller pushed him against the whiteboard again, the marker tray digging into Jace’s back, against the welts, Jace kept kissing back. He didn’t fight, he clung to Miller despite the teacher pushing against him like he was trying to break Jace’s bones. 

When Miller broke off, Jace was surprised when he stopped crushing him and just stared at him thoughtfully for a few moments. Jace blinked, too afraid to look away, but incredibly uncomfortable. He felt himself shaking, the symptoms of his fear still present. This “nice” behavior was putting him on edge, too.

“You’re so cute when you cry,” Miller said, lowly. “It makes me want to hurt you very badly, just to see you cry again.”

Jace swallowed but didn’t react further.

“I want you to beg me to stop, and I want you to say my name,” he said. “But be quiet about it. You don’t want anyone to hear, right?”

He kissed him again, and when he broke away Jace whispered hoarsely, “Please, Mr. Miller, please stop.”

It wasn’t a hard game to play, and Mr. Miller made the way sucking down Jace’s neck while he pleaded in desperate, breathy whispers, “No, please Mr. Miller. Please stop, no, no…”

Jace didn’t want to think about this, about whatever implications this might have, that Miller was making him use his own desire for this to not be happening to facilitate this happening. To get him off. To be using noncompliance to comply. He didn’t care, he didn’t want to think.

A sharp slap to the face cut him off mid sentence, bringing him back to this backwards reality. Jace felt pangs of sticky fear, did he say something wrong? What the fuck?

But the way Mr. Miller was looking at him, lustfully, hungrily, Jace felt shakily reassured that this was a part of it. He whimpered, unsure if that was a signal to stop speaking or what.

Mr. Miller chuckled. Something about this was more terrifying to Jace. He had no idea what kind of game they were playing anymore, or what the teacher was going to do to him. He hated that a part of himself was falling into the game, hoping that he could avoid the pain that was surely coming.

“Give me your phone. All your things,” Miller said quietly.

Numbly, Jace dug in his pockets and fished out his wallet and phone. He also retrieved his backpack from the ground, his legs feeling like gelatin. 

Mr. Miller took his things and went to one of the many cabinets in the classroom, put the stuff in. “Now strip.”

Jace didn’t protest. He shed his clothes quickly.

Miller took them and they joined the rest of Jace’s belongings. Then Miller locked the cabinet.

Jace stood naked, feet burning on the cold floor as he watched Miller nervously. Behind his desk, the teacher pulled out a bag and took out some rope and a device.

He grinned and walked back to Jace. “Don’t move, boy.”

Once again he blindfolded him, and Jace was deciding that it was worse to not see. He felt his jaw being forced open and something pushed in and wrapping around his head. It make be a gag, but it kept his mouth open. With his tongue, Jace felt it, it was an O shape.

Jace felt Miller gather his wrists and tie the together again, tightly, but this time not behind his back. 

Then he was shuffled backwards, back-first onto a desk. His arms were pulled above his head and down over the edge of the desk and tied to something. Jace felt his legs being pulled back and his ankles each being tied tightly to the cold metal legs. He groaned involuntarily, it was a weird position, the small of his back was on the edge of the desk, digging into it. Because Miller had tied his ankles at an angle, he either had to be on his toes or pull with his arms to not be pressed against the desk, but otherwise he had very little leverage to move unless he wanted to try and topple the desk over, which would probably injure him badly.

Jace felt so exposed. It was somewhat cold in the classroom, and he couldn’t see a thing through the blindfold, and the gag was hurting his mouth badly already. Blood gushed past his ears, he dimly wondered what was even happening anymore, he felt the distancing already happening.

What snapped him back was the sound of Miller undoing his belt. Jace flinched in fear, afraid of being hit. Instead he felt hands on his throat and face, and he felt Miller pushing his member past the gag, into Jace’s throat.

Jace choked, his hands scrambling to untie themselves, his legs trying to kick, burning the rope into his flesh. Miller was going fairly, mind numbingly slow, all the way in, enough to have made Jace throw up if he had anything to vomit, and all the way out.

Jace tried desperately to calm himself, trying badly to keep breathing. When he relaxed some, Mr. Miller started going faster, and Jace couldn’t suppress cutting noises of pain.

He felt it hitting his throat, it hurt. Jace could feel his own throat convulsing around the cock, trying to swallow or get it out of something. And he could feel by the violence with which Miller’s groin was being pressed to his face that it was working.

When Miller came, hot sticky liquid shot down Jace’s throat, too deep for him to resist swallowing. He swore he felt it hit his stomach.

Miller stayed pressed into him a while, as if unconcerned Jace was spasming due to the lack of air, but he eventually pulled out.

Jace coughed, gaging, pleading incoherently to be able to close his jaw, it felt like it was on fire.

“Do you know what time it is?” Mr. Miller said.

Jace groaned.

“It’s almost four.”

He heard Miller walking around him and Jace winced.

He felt fingers at his entrance again and he flinched against the desk. Then he felt that thing again, the vibrator, or something that felt like it. It was pressed slowly into Jace, who whimpered.

Retreating footsteps and then he felt it against his prostate and his toes curled up. It was on the lowest setting, but he felt himself get hard.

Without a word, he felt hands on his cock and he froze up. He tried weakly to keep his hips still, not wanting to get off, to let Mr. Miller do anything like this. But he was stroking it roughly, enough to hurt, but it still felt good.

It took a while, but eventually Jace was into it full heartedly and couldn’t control himself. His mind was blank, he was so close. He just needed…

And suddenly Mr. Miller pulled away. Jace cried out, begging around the gag, still grinding his hips in search of friction.

He felt the teacher crouch by his head and untie one of his arms.

“Go ahead,” he said.

Shakily, Jace pulled his numb arm up and wrapped his hand around his cock. He tried not to think about where he was, tried not to think about what was happening, just the feeling.

He came after a few moments and went limp. 

Miller retied his arm and Jace heard a click. The vibrator increased in intensity and Jace cried out in pain. His prostrate was oversensitive, this was fucking torture.

And then he felt it, the belt again across his chest and stomach. He bit down his screams and they came out warbled. He was hit maybe a half dozen times but he was going crazy, being blind and immobile like this. 

He stopped paying attention to much but the pain until he realized Mr. Miller was shuffling around more and he heard the click of a door. The teacher said, “Stay quiet. I’ll see you before class tomorrow.”

Jace made panicked noises, and only heard laughter. He started crying again as he heard the door shut. His belly was sticky with cum and he was incredibly exposed. Mr. Miller must want to get caught, he’s fucking insane.

The thought of being discovered drove Jace made, enough to rail against the bonds to no avail. The vibrator hurt so bad.

After a while he just closed his eyes and hoped to god everything would be alright.


	5. Sleep

Jace had no idea how long it had been, but he must’ve fallen asleep. When he pulled himself back into the conscious world, he was on fire. His limbs were sore from their weird positions, and his back was on fire where it was cut into by the edge of the desk. Jace started pulling against the ropes again, too numb and sore to feel them burning against him. The vibrator inside him was just added torture.

His dull awakening turned into a fully fledged panic after a minute, almost hyperventilating. He started thinking about getting nerve damage, or being badly injured. Was Miller trying to fucking cripple him? Jace had no trust in the man at all, actually, knowing him, that’s probably exactly what he wanted. Maybe him being unable to fight or use his limbs was part of his fucking fetish, who fucking knows. He’d already tortured him beyond where a normal non-sociopath individual would draw the line, even to an enemy. Did he even care that Jace would be dead on the streets after he was done with this fucking game? That being a cripple in Thilibo was a death sentence? That being unable to run away or fight would kill him? He couldn’t protect Nick or himself. He’d have no way to survive. That thought made Jace felt pure primal fear.

Thoughts raced like clawing rodents in his mind. He could start screaming. This gag, whatever it was, it forced his mouth open, not shut. He could scream and scream and pray someone would hear him and rescue him. They’d find him like this, and then he’d either have to beg them to not tell anyone or be okay with getting Miller arrested.

But something in Jace’s heart told him the latter wasn’t a real option. He’d heard of teachers outright striking students without so much as a reprimand. And Miller could always deny it. By the time a decision was made anyhow, Miller would be able to ruin Nick’s grades or concoct a contingency plan at the very least. Jace wasn’t fucking risking it.

The other option, begging them to not tell, also was risky. For one, they might not listen. Very few people were driven by pure justice, but if they had a grudge against Miller or the school, they might see it as a chance to light a fire. Or they could use it to blackmail Jace, and he had had enough of blackmail on Nick’s behalf already. Though he doubted he’d be unlucky enough to land himself in a coercion as intense as this twice, he had zero faith in anyone anymore.

And there was also the fact that Miller would see that he’d been untied and might punish him very badly for it. Or he might go back on the deal altogether if he felt betrayed enough. That scared Jace a lot to think about.

He closed his eyes against the blindfold and groaned softly. His jaw hurt so bad. Everything hurt, he wanted to die.

His brain churned like mad, but the pain was making it hard to think beyond what he’d considered so far. Should he just fucking take it, hope it didn’t do anything permanent? And even if it did, how long did he expect to last anyways? He’d always been expecting a short life, though he hoped he’d at least live to see Nick off the planet.

He took dull comfort in the fact that Alex was watching over Nick. Maybe he’d feel sorry enough that if Jace went missing outta the blue he’d at least keep an eye on his brother for him. 

Jace just needed to survive long enough to protect Nick from Miller. That was all. That was it.

But that didn’t do much to calm the panic bubbling in his chest. His breathing was uncontrolled, labored. He felt himself panicking, as much as he tried to rationalize it. The human urge to avoid harm burned through him, through his wrecked torture.

He felt himself breathing way too fast, unable to get enough air, and his unbalanced mind couldn’t gain the power to slow it. After a wrestle he knew he’d never win, he gave himself over to despair. He didn’t yell for help, but the lack of oxygen soon made him blackout.

 

Jace felt himself being wrapped up in slick fabric. Maybe it was the outside of a jacket. The last few nights had been hotter than hell, but the weather was always sporadic at night. Freezing or boiling, one could never tell.

It must be night, Jace felt, because it was so dark and he was so tired. He was still naked, across someone’s lap, his arms being rubbed as if to get the circulation back in them. Jace realized his jaw was still being forced open and was incredibly sore, and he was blindfolded, but he was otherwise just stiff and achy and generally roughed up, as if he’d been in a bad fight. The vibrator was gone. He was barely aware of himself or what was going on, as if this could be a dream.

Hunger awoke in him, and his stomach growled pitifully. He was so fucking hungry, but he felt too winded to do anything about it.

As he became more aware, Jace remembered where he was, and with a dull shiver, he wondered if Miller had come back for him. He wondered why, and he also wondered why he hadn’t woken him up.

Jace felt the man shift and set him on the freezing floor, the jacket wrapped around everything but his legs. He felt the blindfold come off and he blinked up, vision kinda hazy.

It was still night, but he had no idea what time. It was dark, he could barely make Miller out.

Miller crouched and stretched Jace’s arms over his head, to reach one of the desks and tied each to a leg. Then he pulled the blindfold back over Jace’s eyes. The presence was over his legs and each were stretched and tied to something Jace couldn’t see. It felt better to have them stretched after being forced to bend for so long.

The cock forced down his throat again, but Jace couldn’t even pretend to fight it, besides uncontrollably spasming around the thing. His mouth was raped again, maybe more violently than before, but Jace couldn’t do more than let it happen.

Before he came, Miller slowed and pulled out and got up. He felt Miller between his legs now. He forced his way into Jace’s ass again, and Jace couldn’t do more than choke out warbled cries. When he finally came, Jace was so far gone he barely noticed.

At some point he felt himself being gathered up and retied, this time far more comfortably. His wrists were tied in front of him and his ankles were tied together. He felt the gag finally, thank god, being pushed out of his mouth and replaced with a simple cloth one over his mouth.

Jace felt that part of him rearing its head again, the part that cared, and silent, burning tears streamed down his face. Miller rubbed his fingers through his hair for a bit, as if petting him. Then he picked Jace up and pushed him into a small space.

Dimly, Jace realized it must be one of the cabinet-type closet spaces, whatever they’re called. He had to sit with his knees in his face, but he could fit. Tied like this, he didn’t know if he could get up, but he didn’t move. He let himself be arranged like a doll and didn’t register when the door clicked shut.

After a few moments, Jace felt himself drift into a purely exhausted sleep.

 

When the door opened again, the windows must’ve been open because even behind the blindfold Jace could tell it was bright out. The metal cabinet was pure metal darkness when closed.

He felt someone, surely Mr. Miller, touching on him, pulling him forward to rub on the back of his neck. It was a comforting presence, and Jace was very confused. The events of the night before existed jumbled in his mind, like they might’ve been a dream if not for his current situation.

The gag was removed and he heard Miller’s voice. “Drink.”

A plastic something, it had to be a water bottle, was pressed against Jace’s mouth and he greedily drank from it, suddenly aware how thirsty he had been. Then he felt something soft.

“Eat.”

Jace didn’t know what it was. Bread and meat? He had no idea if it was a sandwich or what. But he ate, starving, feeling his stomach aching from it. Miller pressed his greased fingers into Jace’s mouth, and sickly he licked them cleaning, assuming that’s what he was supposed to do. He was almost too hungry to care. Almost.

Miller pushed Jace back into the cabinet or whatever it was, the gag not being replaced. Miller said, “Be quiet. Class will start soon. I’ll see you at lunch.”

Jace didn’t know what to think. He didn’t know if having a student tied up in his classroom, just knowing he was there was enough for Miller to get his rocks off, but he didn’t care right now. He was relatively comfortable if a bit sore. Right now he could rest at least. Maybe Miller was trying not to outright kill him. Who knew.

And Jace was still exhausted. The door shut with a metal thunk and the pitch darkness returned. Jace fell back to sleep without much reflection. 


End file.
